


rammed through the heart like a stake

by crookedspoon



Series: Asylum Archives [7]
Category: Batman: Arkham Knight
Genre: F/F, Wordcount: 250
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All she's left with is memories, regrets, and a soul-consuming emptiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rammed through the heart like a stake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charleybradburies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/gifts).



> Written for "DCU: Harley/Ivy: Poison Ivy (the plant)" at femslash100's [drabbletag6](http://femslash100.livejournal.com/1434218.html?thread=5185642#t5185642) and "Bittersweet? No, just bitter, the taste of your tongue. Words you can’t have back, so they linger." 1mw's [weekend challenge](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/1277767.html?thread=13012039#t13012039%22).

Harley rolls the stem between her fingers. The bright red leaflets stir a gentle breeze that reminds her of blown kisses. Her heart shrivels at that.

She was right there when Pammy left, unwilling to be part of the latest scheme to bring down B-man if it meant abandoning her values. Harley'd been too high on the residual blood frenzy from Blüdhaven to think about anything other than her next fix. Taking on the Bat was a surefire way of getting it and who was Ivy to spoil her fun? 

She shouldn't have listened to straw-for-brains. Should've gone with Ivy instead. Shouldn't have added barbs she now regrets. It was the last time they spoke. Though how could she have known?

Harley ain't ready to face her grief yet. Not again. Not so soon. Not when there's so _much_ of it.

Ivy's always been her rock, her safety net, the only option to fall back on when she was disintegrating. Harley knew that with time – and Ivy's help – she could've coped with losing those Joker knockoffs she'd come to love so dearly. She had, after all, survived the devastation of her puddin's death.

And now, all she's left with is regrets. Memories, regrets, and a soul-consuming emptiness.

Sap bleeds from the broken stem, oozing down her forearm. Harley rubs it in like lotion. By morning, a burning rash will have monopolized her skin. But that's okay. It might distract her from the pain that gnaws a hole into her heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the poem "The Spirit of the Place" by Adrienne Rich.


End file.
